


Red and Blue

by TheTurtleFromHell



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Animal Death, Backstory, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:23:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21507370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTurtleFromHell/pseuds/TheTurtleFromHell
Summary: Isaac has little under a year to make a timid country-boy necromancer into a fearsome general and forgemaster.How on earth is he going to pull this off?
Relationships: Hector/Isaac Laforeze
Comments: 23
Kudos: 94





	1. First Impressions

“And this,” Dracula stopped in front of the grand door, motioning to it with a clawed hand, “Is your quarters.”

Hector opened the door and peeked inside, the enormous room making him suddenly feel self-conscious about the small bags of belongings he had coming. Claudia, his cat, meowed impatiently, pawing at the sides of her cage. Hector shushed her gently.

“Dinner will be in an hour, Isaac will come to take you to the dining room.” he continued, “If you need anything, alert the servants and it will be taken care of.”

“Thank you.” Hector said, still looking around in awe at the countless fine details. Dracula nodded and left him to it.

Hector stepped inside the room, placing the cage down gently, “Well, let’s make ourselves at home.” he said as he opened the door and shut it behind him. Claudia bolted out and onto the bed, circling as she made herself comfy. He smiled and petted her head before looking over the chest in front of the bed, his uniform folded neatly and next to it the shoulder plate he’d be wearing, one with the mark of a forgemaster.

He picked it up, weighing it in his hands as his thoughts turned to Isaac. All he knew about him was that he was a forgemaster, that he’d be teaching Hector how to be one as well (along with having to learn vampire politics and history alongside his lessons), and their duty was to cull humanity.

There would be no more people dying in pointless wars over whose religion was the right one, no fighting for scarce resources or worrying about survival. The vampires would care for them like a shepherd cares for his flocks, the survival of an entire species at the cost of thinning the herd every now and then. It was the best any of them could hope for… so then why was he so sick to his stomach over this?

He was so distracted by his own thoughts that he didn’t notice a soldier opening the door, bringing the rest of his luggage inside.

Claudia opened her eyes, hissing and lunging at the vampire carrying her master’s items.

Hector heard her turned around in time to see the soldier his back and kick the poor cat, sending her bolting out the open doors.

* * *

All Isaac knew about this new man was that he was timid but talented in dark arts. As deeply as his hatred for humans ran his trust in Dracula was deeper, so he agreed to take the necromancer under his wing. How could he refuse?

They were to have dinner tonight, and Isaac couldn’t help but he more than a little curious as to the man’s own reasons for wanting an end to the human’s reign.

The one other thing he knew about this man was that he was from Rhodes and had grown up on the Greek islands his whole life, so he borrowed several books from Dracula’s collection and studied as much as he could on the local arts, scholars, and history. 

Not that he was actually interested in any sort of petty talk, he simply wanted to know what the man might bring up in conversation.

As he read through a chapter on local cuisine, he felt something brush against his leg. He reached down to brush off what he thought was lint, but instead came into contact with soft fur.

“What the…?” he looked down at his feet to find a cat rubbing against the legs of his desk, mewing up at him as they made eye contact.

A cat roaming through the castle would be odd in itself, but a cat with flesh missing and glowing blue eyes, well, that was  _ very _ odd.

“Where on Earth did you come from?” Isaac asked as he lifted the cat into his lap, scratching behind its ear. It didn’t take a genius to connect this strange cat and the arrival of the necromancer.

“Your master should be keeping a better eye on you.” he told the cat as he stood, deciding to arrange the meeting earlier than planned, “Otherwise, I may just steal you from him.”

* * *

“Claudia!” Hector called down the endless hallways, “Here love! Come to me love!”

“Can’t believe it,” the soldier behind him scoffed, “Wasting my time looking for a damn cat.”

“We wouldn’t be searching for her if you didn’t kick her like she was a rock.” Hector snapped, glaring daggers, “You’re lucky I’m not informing Dracula of your insolence!”

Something flashed in the vampire’s ruby eyes, something that sent chills to Hector’s very core.

“Oh, am I?” the vampire hissed, voice dripping with mirth as he stepped closer.

Hector took a step back, regretting it the moment he did, “I,” he swallowed, “I am his general, you will respect me.”

The soldier laughed an awful laugh, like silverware scraping a plate. His cold hand wrapped around Hector’s throat and forced him against the wall, claws too close to his jugular for comfort, “You’re human too, don’t forget your place on the food chain, prey.” he said, moving his face so close that his dry, horrid breath assaulted Hector’s nose as he practically drooled like a dog staring at meat.

Hector tried to think of something, anything he could say to make the soldier back off, but he couldn’t. His human body betrayed him, placing struggle above thought despite him trying to do otherwise.

“You like animals, right?” the vampire chuckled, “After I drain you I could throw your body in with the pigs, watch as they make work of your flesh and bones. Me and my buddies could tell Dracula you got too close, admiring them like the freak you-”

“ _ Ahem. _ ”   
  
Hector and the soldier looked to see a human with tattoos decorating his dark skin, holding Claudia and looking rather unhappy.

The soldier paled and pulled away from Hector in a flash, bowing his head respectfully. Hector was extremely confused by the change in demeanor until he saw the symbol on the human’s uniform, his eyes widening in realization.

“I know that you and your lot are quite simple-minded,” Isaac said, “However, I didn’t realize you were stupid enough to threaten one of Dracula’s generals.”

The vampire said nothing, continuing to stare at the floor in fear.

“I imagine he’ll be quite angry about your lack of respect towards those he appoints. A soldier who can’t follow his wishes is useless and must be made an example of to keep order, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked much too calmly, not giving enough pause for the soldier to answer, “Go to your barracks and wait until Dracula deals with you.”

“Of course sir.” the soldier nodded, taking his leave with an obvious sag in his step.

Isaac turned his attention to Hector, who was still reeling from the entire experience, “Is this yours?” he asked, holding up the cat.

“Claudia!” Hector gasped, taking him into his arms and looking her over frantically, “Oh, are you alright, are you hurt?” 

Isaac watched for a moment, observing, “You must be Hector.”

Hector suddenly blushed with embarrassment, clumsily shifting the cat in his arms and offering a hand, “Yes, I am! Um, thank you for-”

“We are the only humans in Dracula’s court.” Isaac interrupts, “I will not always be there to watch your back, so it's best you learn to carry yourself more confidently and rid yourself of you fears, otherwise they’ll smell it on you. That is my first lesson.”

“Oh…” he retracted his hand.

“Dracula brought you here because he believes you have talent. Do not make him have wasted his time on you because you cower like a mouse.”

Hector couldn’t help but do just that under the man’s intense gaze,“I apologize.”

“Save your breath.” he told him, “Don’t grovel, put your effort into actually learning to survive in this place.”

“I’m sor- uhm, yes, sir.”

Isaac scoffed, “Don’t call me that, we’re supposed to be equal.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Isaac sighed and pinched his brows.

This was going to be harder than expected.


	2. Lessons

“Are you familiar human anatomy?”he asked as he pulled several books from the shelves.

“Yes, I worked as an apprentice for a grave digger.” Hector replied, “He taught me which organs to steal so he could sell them to magicians. Long story, really.”

“Hm.” he hummed in thought, “I suppose it doesn’t matter the way one learns something, so long as they learn it.” he said as he walked over to the table, “Today I want you to learn about the way human bodies work in magic terms, how they conduct magic and how we bend those channels to our will.”

“Okay.”

“I have to finish and order of night creatures today, so I’ll be in the forge if you need anything.” he said as he put the books down, a smile on his face, “Remember, the sooner you learn, the sooner my workload eases up.”

“Of course.” Hector says, only just realizing as Isaac cocks a brow that it was likely just a joke.

He watches as his tutor leaves, then turned his attention to the book and stared helplessly at it.

The problem wasn’t that he couldn’t read, per say. He was more than literate, could read and write just as well as any educated person, but the words just seemed to blur together, his eyes unable to stop darting around at all the little words. Without the aid of the text the diagrams scattered across the pages only complicated things. He thought back to his childhood, to when his father has beaten him for being unable to read his own textbooks, and though he heavily doubted Isaac would do the same, the fear of failure remained.

So he pressed onwards, forcing himself to read each word over and over until he made it to the end of the page.

He smiled triumphantly and continued onto the next … before realizing that he had retained nothing from the previous one.

* * *

And hour ticked away unbeknownst to him, and Isaac returned to find Hector’s brows furrowed in thought. Certainly that was a good sign. 

“How far along are you?” Isaac asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Hector gasped and jumped in surprise, “O-Oh, well, um,” he swallowed, glancing away, “I… I’m still on the first page.”

Isaac smiled for a split second, as if he thought he was joking... until he saw Hector was actually still on the first page, “... it’s been an hour.”

“I know…” Hector murmured, ashamed.

“It took you an hour to get through a page?”

“I’m just having a little bit of trouble…” he said, wishing the ground would swallow him up.

Isaac sighed in frustration and snatched the book from his hands. Hector flinched, half expecting him to throw the book at him. Instead, he sat across from him, looking as unbothered as ever, “What don’t you understand?”

Hector blinked, “What?”

Isaac rolled his eyes, but repeated himself calmly, “Which parts are you having trouble with?”

“Oh,” he said, “Well, it’s not so much trouble with the content as it is with the words. There’s just so many on one single page and it's overwhelming.” he shifted uncomfortably, “I’m sorry, it’s stupid, I know.”

Isaac neither agreed nor disagreed, instead he took a piece of paper and produced a mysterious pen from his pocket and began writing (without having to dip it in ink). Hector watched in confused silence as he wrote for what seemed like ages until he slid the paper across the table, “Here. I’ve summarized the main points and wrote which pages the diagrams they correlate to are on.”

Hector picked up the paper and looked it over. The writing was large and clear, the once intimidating lesson reduced to a numbered list of short summaries. 

“Is this alright?” Isaac asked.

“It’s… it’s more than alright.” Hector beamed, holding the paper to his chest like a coveted gift, “Thank you.”

Isaac shrugged, “Next time you need help, don’t waste an hour staring uselessly at a book. It is my job to teach you after all.”

“Right.” he nodded, looking over the paper, “Well, I do have a few questions…”


	3. Learning

“So then, if we want to change a big creature into a smaller one, we would draw it like… this?” Hector says as he adds another line to the grid, “Then to add wings we put these runes on the side, right?”

“Yes, precisely.” Isaac says as he leans over, hands folded behind his back as he looks over his work, “Well done.”

Hector immediately beams at the praise, straightening his posture like a cat getting pet. 

Isaac acted like he didn’t notice it, “Alright, I think that’s enough for the day.” he says, standing and grabbing supplies.

“Wait,” Hector said, grabbing his arm. By the time he looked over Hector had already pulled his hand away, hiding both between his legs and looking ashamed about something.

“... what?” he asks.

“I was wondering… “Hector said, “I would like to know how that pen works. How can you write without dipping it in ink?”

“Hm?” Isaac blinked, before looking down at the pen in his hand, “Ah, this is one of Dracula’s inventions.” he says, offering it for him to take, “The ink is inside the pen, and when you press on it it releases the ink.”

“Amazing…” he breathed, taking it and turning it in his hands.

“You can have it.” Isaac said as he finished piling his books, adding when Hector looks at him in disbelief, “There’s thousands of them stored in the supply closets, I won’t be missing that one.”

“Oh… well, thank you.” he smiles. Isaac simply hums and shrugs it off.

“If it’s alright with you, I’m going to stay here a little longer.” Hector said, “To study the book Dracula gave me.”

Isaac nodded and left without another word. Hector watched the door he left through, silently hoping he’d come back. 

When he didn’t, he pulled out the book Dracula had given him and began to read. With help from Isaac and Dracula, his problem with books had gotten better. They taught him to use a sheet of paper to block out the lines he hadn’t yet reached, and little tricks to make remembering information easier.

But all the tips and tricks in the world couldn’t help his mind from wandering, and soon his attention shifted to the pen.

Carefully, he began to mark lines on a sheet of paper, still amazed by the little pen. He wondered how the ink got inside, and considered breaking it open to see. He then decided against for the simple reason he didn’t want to make a mess.

He began to think about the creatures he’d be forging, how big and menacing they looked even in illustrations. Part of him admired them for what they were, but the other part of him thought they were rather plain looking.

He remembered something Isaac had said in passing, about the possibilities that forgemastering brings. He wonders if there are other creatures he could make, both ones that had been made in the past and ones of his own design. 

He began to draw a few sketches of his creatures, forgetting all about the vampire politics he was supposed to be studying.

* * *

There was a light dust of snow on the ground in the fields surrounding the castles, on top of trees and grass. Walks in nature were always nice, especially when you hadn’t yet walked through a new place.

Isaac pulled his coat tighter around him, but not enough to keep away the sting of the cold breeze. As much as he wanted to reflect on how much he loved the cool weather, there were other things occupying his mind, like the insufferable Hector.

The more time he spent with him, the more times Isaac found himself drawing connections between animal behavior and the necromancer who coveted them. Hector carried himself with the grace of wildcat, and on the other side of the coin he was just as jumpy as one. Even when he kept a stoic face, there was always a way to tell what he was feeling, like one would read the body language of a dog. Every time he smiled it reminded him of a dove, light and carefree in the wind. When his mood turned for the worse, he was like a snake, coiled with tension (even though Isaac had yet to see him strike).

It was so weird, because Isaac had never thought about people like that. Perhaps Hector was rubbing off on him, which if that was the case he was going to have to add more meditations into his already busy schedule.

Despite that, he couldn’t be mad at the man. He wasn’t doing it on purpose, but the way he went on and on about how animals and humans were alike was hard to tune out. Still, it was his own fault for letting his guard down and letting someone influence him so easily.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly tripped over something, stumbling a few steps before catching himself. He looked back at the ground behind him and saw an owl, the color of snow and wheat. Its wings were spread across the ground, as if it simply dropped from the sky mid flight. 

In the grand scheme of things, the corpse of an owl is unremarkable. In a few days, the forest would consume its flesh with insects, scavengers, and bacteria ridding any trace of its existence. Its struggles and achievements in its life would be forgotten by all, wiped from existence without the world missing it.

Such was the way of life and it didn’t bother Isaac, but he wondered...

Did Hector like owls?

* * *

Hector sighed as he returned to his quarters, trying to rub out the crick in his neck. 

After realizing he had wasted most of the day doodling, he had tried to cram as much information as he could before his follow-up with Dracula the next day.

He hadn’t expected vampire politics to be just as, if not more complicated than human politics. The way they spoke of themselves was as if they were above petty squabbles and senseless warfare. Their history stated otherwise.

“Hello Claudia, Lawrence.” he greeted the fox and cat as he walked inside, obliging their begs for attention with plenty of pets and kisses before he started his bedtime routine.

However, something on the forge caught his eye. A burlap sack with something inside.

“What the…?” he mumbled as he walked over, untying the laces and gasping as the beautiful owl that greeted him. It was stiff in his hands, rigor mortis settled in its body. Obviously this thing didn’t fly through a window and out itself in the bag, so who…?

“Master Dracula.” he said aloud, looking to his pets, “How thoughtful.”

Of course his master would be concerned with him feeling at home, and he knew better than anyone how he valued animals.

“I suppose my toothbrush isn’t going anywhere.” he told the owl as he took out his hammer and tools, “Let’s get you fixed up, shall we?”

* * *

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” Isaac sighed as he looked over the library desk, particularly at the mess of papers and books left on it by a certain silver-haired man.

He walked with angry, heavy steps and began to clean, disorganization one of his few pet peeves. Honestly, it was like Hector hadn’t even been paying him any mind-

He stopped upon seeing a sheet of paper with odd drawings, ones that certainly weren’t good enough to be in any of Dracula’s collections. At first, he wondered if it belonged to a certain dhampir from years ago, but as he picked it up it became clear that was not the case.

Hector’s handwriting surrounded the doodles (some of which were scribbled out), with arrows pointing them to the according drawing. 

There was a tall creature with wings and a plague mask specified to be made from bone from the corresponding text, a horned demon wielding a staff with the words ‘understands and uses magic’ next to it, and a minotaur looking creature with the words ‘grows big’ next to it. 

Isaac chuckled. Certainly, Hector had high expectations for himself with how complicated these creatures were. A creature being able to grow past the height it was given was unheard of, since they had no ability to take in the materials required, a creature wielding its own magic even more ridiculous.

But still, there was a slight possibility Hector might not only learn what was required of him, but exceed. Despite the fact that that would mean he was more talented and able than Isaac, the older forgemaster held no envy over the idea. If anything, it proved he was an excellent teacher, and anything that would further the war he didn’t mind.

Then he recalled a conversation with Dracula.

_ “He truly has no idea what we’re doing?” he had asked his master. _

_ Dracula sighed, “Hector is very simple, Isaac. I ask that you not disclose to him the war’s true purpose.” he said with a tired look. _

_ “Of course, my Lord.” he bowed shortly, “But I must point out that when the council comes, when reports and word of our deeds come back, he will learn. What then?” _

_ The vampire went silent for so long that Isaac was about to repeat his question when he finally spoke, “Hopefully by then, he will be enlightened.” he paused, “If not, doctor reports, tell him the words are nothing but words, and tell him we already have camps established. However, I don’t think it will reach that.” _

His grip on the paper tightened, his heart racing. The deadline was drawing closer, and still Hector was none the wiser. 

But that was okay, it meant nothing to him if Hector was lied to. Dracula had the right as a leader to lie to Hector, to the generals, even to Isaac himself.

… so why did he feel so sick over this?

Isaac sighed and tossed the paper aside. It seemed he really did need to do more meditating after all.

* * *

Hours later, Isaac went to fetch Hector. The new wounds on his back screamed in pain, and just as planned that had blocked out the whispers of doubt in the back of his mind.

As he opened the door, he was nearly met with a faceful of talons heading straight for him. He ducked quickly, and the owl shrieked in surprise and turned around just as quick, landing on her master’s leather gloved hand with feathers ruffled in fright.

“Oh my God, Isaac!” Hector gasped, speed-walking over with the owl on his raised hand, “Are you alright!?”

“I’m fine.” he insisted as he stood back up, smoothing out his tunic, “But I recommend you not let that thing fly around so carelessly.”

“She’s not a-!” Hector stopped himself, “I’m sorry.”

Isaac cocked a brow. Seems like confidence still needed work, but that was for another time.

“Where is this one from?” he asked, pretending to be none the wiser.

“Master Dracula gave her to me I think” he explained, scratching under the her beak, “I named her Sapphos, after a poet from my homeland. She wrote a lot of homosexual lyres, though many scholars will tell you she had a husband, so it was merely art and not a reflection on her lifestyle.”

“Ah.” Isaac said, “You sound like you disagree.”

“I do, mainly because her husband’s name translates to ‘Man from the Island of AllCocks’.”

Isaac snorted and dissolved into laughter. He laughed, Hector couldn’t believe his eyes, the stoic unbreakable Isaac  _ laughed _ at his little fun fact.

He didn’t have much time to revel in the small victory as Isaac went back to business as usual, crossing his arms and looking unamused, “I had to clean up your mess last night.”

“Oh!” Hector gasped, “I’m sorry, I meant to go back and clean it up before I went to bed, but I got distracted with Sapphos and-”

“Don’t.” Isaac held up a hand, “The next time I find your mess, I will gather it and throw it in front of you, even if you’re in a meeting with Dracula I don’t care, I will do it and tell him myself all about your irresponsible behavior. Will that help you remember?”

Hector said nothing as he glanced to the side, walking over to his stone slab and letting Sapphos hop onto it. He sagged noticeably.

He sighed, but he didn’t feel bad about his harsh words. Hector needed to learn, and if threats got the point across then so be it.

“Anyways,” he continues, “I think we shall do our first lab tomorrow.”

“Really?” Hector looked up with bright eyes, as if he had forgotten about the scolding.

“We’ll start simple.” he tells him, “A single zombie will do.”

The glee on Hector’s face was quickly replaced with a look of dread, skin drained of color and eyes filled with horror. Isaac was so shocked by the sudden change that he forgot to hide the worry in his voice, “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yes, I’m…” Hector took a deep breath, leaning against the slab for support, “I just got dizzy… for a second.”

“Are you sure?” Isaac pressed, not believing it for a second, “If you are ill-”

The necromancer shook his head furiously, “No, I’m fine.It’s one zombie, right? Just one zombie?”

The forgemaster stared at him in bewilderment, before slowly nodding.

“Right…” Hector cleared his throat, wiping the sweat gathered on his forehead, “Just one zombie, I’ll be there tomorrow.” he says as if reassuring himself more than anything.

“Of course…” he says, unsure of what else he can say or do, “Just don’t push yourself.” he advises before leaving as quickly as he can.

If Hector said he was fine, he’d take him at his word.

But something about the fear in his eyes would bother Isaac for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seems like something about zombies bothers Hector... wonder if we'll find out what it is ;3


	4. Foundation

Everything was ready.

A piece of chalk sat on the stone slab next to several crystals. All that was missing was the necromancer himself.

Isaac stood watching the doorway with crossed arms, only able to organize the tools so many times before growing bored. Just as he was about to stomp down to Hector’s quarters to ask what the big idea was, the man of the hour walked in, looking less than well.

“Apologies for keeping you waiting,” he said, waving a hand through the air as if he was dismissing his sickly appearance, “There was something that needed attention, but I’m here now. Let’s get on with it.”

Isaac watched him walk over to the table, looking over the tools with tired baggy eyes, pale skin nearly matching his hair.

“Are you unwell?” he asked, wondering if he should put a stop to the lab and send the man back to his room, “Perhaps-” 

Hector shook his head fervently, picking up the chalk with a look of determination.

“No.” he said firmly, “I’m ready to do this.”

Isaac sighed, still wrestling with the decision, “If you insist.” he chose. It wasn’t like he hadn’t brought beings back himself despite being under the weather. If Hector was sure of himself, then he could at least try.

With a steady hand and fire in his eyes, Hector drew the circle and laid out the crystals on each rune. He heaved the body onto the slab and raised his hammer, an intense blue fire erupting from the cold steel.

The magic was so unlike Isaac’s, for where his thrived on the raw energy of pain, Hector’s relied on sound. It was like comparing screams of agony to a choir of gentle voices. The flames moved as the ringing spread, enveloping the corpse as dancing across the body. The body twitched, then sat up, groaning long and low. Hector moved, cradling it’s face with the softness of a mother to her child. The zombie gazed into his eyes, seemingly placated by whatever he saw in them. It stood up like a soldier awaiting orders.

Isaac took the opportunity to walk over and examine it from head to toe. It was by no means impressive work, but it was a step in the right direction, a foundation for things to come.

“Well done Hector.” Isaac said with just the slightest smile, “I’m proud of you.

Hector smiled in return and nodded in acknowledgement…

Before doubling over and vomiting all over the floor.

-

Everything hurt. His head, his eyes, his stomach. Still, he couldn’t help but watch as Isaac came and went, getting extra blankets, a glass of water, and a jar filled with white powder.

“This will help with the nausea.” he explained, “You don’t need too much, just a few pinches. Mix it in the water and drink it every last drop.”

“Thank you…” he whispered in a tired, hoarse voice, “You didn’t have to…”

“I do.” he sighed as he pulled a chair next to the bed, “I should not have let you perform the ritual in such a state. I take full responsibility.”

“It’s not entirely your fault.” Hector admits, ignoring the throbbing pain in his temples as he sits up, “This wasn’t my first time making a zombie.” 

Isaac's eyes widen in surprise, to which Hector continues, “It was on my parents.”

“Oh…” he says understandingly, “I… apologize, for your loss.”

“Don’t.” Hector shook his head, pulling the covers tightly around himself, “I killed them.”

“You…” Isaac tailed off, taking a moment to process the two confessions, “You killed your parents, just to resurrect them?”

Hector laughed tiredly, “It sounds bad when you put it like that, but technically yes.”

“I’m curious to know how it can sound good.” he replied, resting his chin in his hand.

The necromancer took a deep breath, gazing at the ceiling for a moment before looking back to his tutor, “They hated me for everything I was, everything they knew I’d become.”

Isaac was unsure if that applied to his necromancy, or to something else he suspected the man might be. Instead of prying, he let him continue.

“When I was… I think fourteen, I had enough of it. I thought perhaps they needed to be shown how wonderful my magic really was then they’d be grateful, and understanding like my pets.”

“How did you kill them?” he asked, feigning disinterest. In actuality he was itching to know every detail of his (presumably) first kills.

“Fire.” he answers, “Smoke really, I locked them in the basement because I knew the stone wouldn’t burn.”

“You needed their bodies to be in good shape.” Isaac pointed out, to which Hector nods in confirmation.

“I did my mother first. When she came back she told me she loved me, hugged me tightly and kissed my forehead, told me she was so very sorry for how she treated me. It had been everything I wanted until I realized it wasn’t her.” he lays back down, covers up to his chin, “So I ran to the village, told them my parents had been possessed and let them do the killing this time.”

“And then you became a gravedigger’s apprentice who harvested organs?” he asks.

Hector chuckled, “No. First I was a servant for a farmer, then I got moved around a bit in different jobs, anything you can think of really. Butcher, jewelry making, cleaning bars, it wasn’t until I was sixteen I ended up at the graveyard.”

“I imagined it must have been your dream job.” he says thoughtfully.

“It was the best I’d gotten in a long time.” he smiles as he recalls, “We were just tolerating each other really, there was no love in it. I did my work and made sure my pets stayed out of his way, and in return he gave me a home with food and a warm place to sleep. Funnily enough I still live in that house.”

“So you still work as a gravedigger?” he inquires.

“No. After he died I did the work for a while, but I’m not very good with people as you’ve likely figured out, so they went elsewhere to bury their dead, and I was content to live alone with my pets.”

“And yet despite finding your place, that incident bothers you still.” Isaac observes, “How troublesome.”

The necromancer hiding under the covers like an ashamed child, “It’s ridiculous, I know…”

Isaac considers his next words carefully. He needs to make Hector move on, without striking the wrong place in his simple, fragile mind.

“Did you ever have a proper education in necromancy?” he asks after a few moments. Hector looks over at him, seemingly surprised by the question.

“No, of course not.” he replies, “My parents didn’t want me to pursue that type of magic, they rather I learn how to make gold from dirt and that sort of thing.”

“You had to teach yourself,” he concludes, “It’s not your fault you didn’t know any better. In fact I would say it was theirs.”

Hector blinks cluelessly, “I… what…?”

“If they had let you explore and master your powers and learn about them through books and tutors rather than trial and error, then they’d still be alive, and you wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

“I… I never thought about it like that.” Hector says, but there’s hesitation in his voice. He’s got him right where he wants him like a fly in a web, but he must travel across what he’s weaved carefully, lest he break the hold he has on Hector.

“So then what’s the problem?” he presses in a soft tone, the type Hector responds best to.

“It just… it sounds too convenient.” he sighs, looking away almost immediately, “It feels like I’m lying to justify my actions.”

“Perhaps, but is that a bad thing?” Isaac asks, leaning forward as he emphasizes his point, “To tell yourself lies so that you’d be able to move forward, to stop the past from holding you back and be able to do your work, does that really sound so sinful?”

Hector looks up at him, silently contemplating the question, “I suppose not…”

“You and I are the type of people who what we must to get through this life.” Isaac says as he stands, “You can’t let yourself be held back by the past any longer, otherwise you won’t be able to become the forgemaster you want to be.”

He turns to leave without another word, content to leave Hector to lie wrapped in the silken lies he’s spun.

However he hears Hector behind him whisper, ever so softly, “Thank you.”

He doesn’t acknowledge the thanks, but he doesn’t shrug it off either.


	5. No More

Dogfighting was a sport Isaac took no interest in, despite his rumored cruelty.

He didn’t see the point in putting so much effort into raising dogs if only to have them tear each other apart. The men he knew has claimed that this is what the dogs were meant for, that they loved the fight as much as the spectators.

He highly doubted that even the strongest of dogs would willingly step into a fight with a bear.

So here he sat in a place he never thought he’d be sitting, on the outside of a bar sipping stale ale, trying to listen to anything else besides the shrieks and frantic barking of the doomed dogs within.

His patience paid off when a man threw open the back door, tossing a little black dog into the ditch before heading back inside. Isaac dumped out the rest of the ale and walked over to the bloodied corpse.

It was a pug, a dog usually bred for the nobles to show off and fawn over. He could only imagine the life the pitiful thing had to have ended up as a bait dog in some lowly bar.

He picked it up carefully, noting that half its face was torn off as well as the skin of its right paw. It was something he knew Hector could work with.

* * *

Hector is still studying with Dracula at this time. He just has to go into his room, drop the dog off, and leave without a-

“Seriously, this is unacceptable!”

Isaac looks up in confusion as he hears an argument down the hall. The voice is familiar, but he almost didn't recognize it with such a harsh tone. He walks around the corner, almost in disbelief at the sight.

“Missing limbs I can work with, but the limbs themselves are out of the question.” Hector said to the vampire soldier with disdain, “I made my instructions very clear, corpses in the best shape you could find them, not bits and pieces. I don’t have time to stitch together an abomination, we’re making soldiers not secondhand rag dolls! Go tell your comrades, I shouldn’t have to repeat myself again.”

The soldier bowed his head as he took his leave, leaving Hector muttering to himself in an annoyed whisper “The hell am I gonna do with all this?”

Isaac was sure he had to be dreaming, he was positive of it. Where did this sudden tenacity and attitude come from? Wasn’t it just the other day he was chastising Hector for not carrying himself right? Or was that more long ago than he-

“Isaac?”

Without him noticing, it was almost as if Hector has teleported in front of him, “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Isaac said, putting up his usual emotionless facade.

“Dracula told me I could begin studying on my own with the progress I made.” he explained, “He said he’d rather I spend my time mastering being a forgemaster.”

“Very good.” he replied casually, as if he didn’t have a dead dog in his arms, to speaking of which Hector finally took notice of.

“Aw, what a precious little thing.” Hector cooed (now this was the necromancer Isaac recognized), “Where did you find him?”

“He was mixed in with my last delivery.” Isaac lied with confidence, “Seems you’re just having as much trouble with the soldiers’ incompetence as I am. I was just going to complain to them and get rid of it.”

“I can take him if you want.” Hector offers a little too quickly, arms already outstretched to take him. Isaac sighed and handed over the dog without argument. The necromancer cradled it in his arms, smiling brightly, “I think I’ll name him Cezar. He looks like a little Lord doesn’t he?”

“If you insist.” Isaac said, “I honestly don’t care for your pets, but what you do with your spare time doesn’t concern me. As long as you take care of your work first.”

Hector visibly deflated, but before he could even be given a chance to speak Isaac started down the hall.

* * *

“So you’ve noticed it too?” Dracula hums, stroking his beard.

“It’s a little concerning.” Isaac admits, “While I am happy that he no longer needs to be coddled, I am curious about where this sudden change has come from.”

The vampire shuts his eyes in thought, “I think,” he begins, “That when Hector began to really work the forge and saw what he could do, it sparked confidence in him. Perhaps, it has been a while since I delved into human psychology.”

“It’s feasible…” Isaac comments, delving into his own thoughts. He had become too close to Hector, even after he told himself to keep a distance. He genuinely cared for the man, and that was too much.

“If that is all.” Isaac says. Dracula dismissed him with a nod, and wit that he retreats to his quarters, hands itching to get themselves on his whip.

* * *

Isaac retired to his bath after a long night of refocusing. As the medicinal herbs and oils soaked into his wounds, he mentally recited his mantra.

**Hector is not a child, he is a man. A competent man. He does not require hand holding, gifts, or nice words. You know this, now act it.**

Still, a small voice argued, _ He needs someone on his side. You need someone too, you are only human. _

**I’ve survived without the need for company my entire life. The company of other humans has never benefited me.**

_ But that can change. You can benefit each other where no one else has, he is like you- _

**Enough. Hope, friendship, emotions, such things are a waste. We are bringing about the end of humanity, to befriend him-**

_ Would be proving yourself wrong. You are so scared of being wrong that- _

**No. Stop it.**

_ That you would rather die for your cause than think of an alternative. Hector would show you that you're more valuable than this war. Why are you so afraid- _

**I’m not.**

_ You are. You’ve always been afraid. Just like him. _

**I’m not like him!**

_ You see yourself in him, as different as he is. He has learned to take company in pets where- _

**STOP IT!**

_ You find yours in pain. You’ve been lying to yourself for a long time. You want him, you need him, you love- _

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Something shatters beneath his hand. A soap dish, he realized as he struggled to catch his breath. The pain, like always, broke him free from his thoughts. When was the last time he had gotten so lost in them?

He sighs, picking tiny shards from the cuts and dipping his hand into the water, watching as the blood dilutes and turns the water a soft pink. 

No more, he thinks as he watches, no more weakness.


	6. Forward

Things were busy these days. The orders for night creatures were in full swing, day after day spent toiling in the forge, lifting corpses and swinging his hammer without pause.

Time spent before bed was no longer spent reading or studying, instead it was spent straight up collapsing onto the bed and barely moving, lest her twinge a sore muscle. While lying there numerous things crossed his mind, things like Isaac’s sudden distance from him.

It hadn’t made sense, the way he suddenly stopped dropping by Hector’s forge, replying with short answers instead of making conversation, and the few times he actually would talk to him was only in relation to work.

Suddenly every awkward chat and potentially offending/off-putting thing he said came back to haunt him every time he shut his eyes.

But maybe it had to do with something else. Maybe it was because the tutoring was over, and this was just how Isaac treated his equals. Which, on the one hand, was great because it meant he was a respected forgemaster. On the other, there was a part of his that missed the attention, the nights spent with someone who didn’t loathe him for once in his life, someone who saw him for who he was and helped him achieve greatness. It had filled a void that had been ignored for a long time.

It was probably his own fault to expect something so farfetch'd. Isaac never once was deceptive about their relationship, so it was entirely Hector’s mistake for being so selfish and thinking he should expect friends in a place like this.

“Stupid feelings…” he muttered as Cezar jumped from the stepping stool onto the bed, seating himself by his master’s side, “Stupid Isaac, stupid forgemastering…”

_Stupid Hector_.

* * *

Everything was better now.

Hector seemed to finally get the message of what his job was and what was expected of him. Best of all, the man didn’t complain about it all. If he was at all hurt by the strict expectations, then he was good at hiding it. Not that Isaac cared, it would just be better for the both of them if no weakness was shown around the council.

He shouldn’t have expected that much, since at the very first meeting Hector placed a hand on his shoulder, copying his every move. He paid no mind to it.

He did, however, laughed to himself in his private chambers when he recalled how blatantly Hector told of Godbrand. All of the work put into building the man’s confidence was worth that one moment, if not anything else.

The rumors started. Hector was meeting with Carmilla frequently, or rather the general welcomed herself into his forge whenever she pleased. He didn’t care, what happened between her and Hector was none of his business.

But then they spoke of plans, of an attack at Braila. Carmilla was extremely set on it, and it couldn’t be for a good reason. 

And that’s when Hector revealed he was still the same old person, unaware of his own desperation for approval and respect, and voiced his support for her and against him. It wasn’t quite betrayal to Dracula... but it was certainly something concerning.

Hector went as far as to request to speak with him privately, still speaking of annoying animal comparisons. But he also spoke compellingly with many good points.

In the end, he decided Hector was right, there needed to be unification above all else. For that reason, he convinced Dracula to placate the council (Even if Carmilla did try something, she’d be outnumbered and overpowered by the rest of the council). Maybe a victory at Braila would be what was needed to lift Dracula’s spirits.

  
  
  


But with all his careful planning and strategy, not even he could never expect what had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems Isaac didn't realize the impact his distance from Hector would have...  
> The next chapter will just be a short epilogue to tie up some loose ends. Thank you all so much for sticking with the story ^^ <3


	7. Epilogue

A year on your own leaves you thinking about a lot of things.

At first it was pure red anger at nearly everything. Himself, Carmilla, Alucard and his friends…

Hector.

Many nights were spent just wondering why, why would Hector betray them? Had he felt scorned by Isaac? Or maybe he felt Dracula was no longer suitable ruler? It didn’t matter, none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was that one day, Hector would pay. It didn’t matter how, only that he’d die for it.

Although perhaps he would impale Carmilla’s and Hector’s bodies for all to see as a warning to those who thought about stopping his war on humanity, a fitting tribute in his master’s name.

But then came that fateful day in a tavern in Hungary, when he was eating dinner and just happened to hear the tail end of a conversation.

“... don’t know if we’re gonna stay much longer, Carmilla’s armies have gotten worse since she had that man with her.”

Isaac nearly choked on his food, turning around to see a small group of men chatting at the bar, hopelessness in their eyes. He considered for a moment, and then stood from his table and walked over, “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear something about Carmilla.”

The men looked over to him, looking at the man with suspicion.

“What’s it matter to you?” the fat redhead asked.

“I’m hunting her.” he said plainly, “Any information would be helpful for the cause.”

The men shifted uneasily, averting their gazes. The redhead spoke again, “I think we said too much.”

“Perhaps this will change your mind?” Isaac said as he pulled a pouch of silver coins from his bag, dumping them on the table. The glint of riches seemed to be enough for the raven-haired one.

“What do you want to know?” he inquired. The rest of the men dispersed, seemingly wanting no part in the snitching.

“The man you were talking about.” Isaac said, “What does he look like?”

“Skinny, real skinny.” the man recalled, “I thought he was an old man the first time I saw him, because he had this silver hair. Imagine my surprise when I saw he looked no older than myself.”

He pressed, “Does he ever say anything?”

“No, never.” the man shook his head, “I don’t think Carmilla lets him.”

“She’s always with him?”

“Got the poor man in chains most of the time, and even when he’s not he never goes more than five feet from her. I can’t imagine the torture she did to him, to make a man that broken.” he pauses to ask the bartender for more ale, before continuing, “He looks like he gets tossed around a bit, but she says he’s her general.”

Isaac blinks, “General?”

The man shrugs, “I’d hate to see how she treats her soldiers if that’s how she treats her generals, but that’s all I know.”

“Thank you.” Isaac nods, shoving the coins back into the pouch and handing them over, “You’ve helped me more than you can imagine.”

“I feel bad for the man.” he admits as he takes it, “But I have an aging mother, a wife and five kids to take care of. The sooner I us out of here, the better.”

“Understandable.” he concedes, “I bid you well.” he says as he leaves.

“You as well.” the man raises his glass before taking a swig.

* * *

Isaac retires to his cart on the edge of town, watching in thought as his night creatures set it ablaze and feasted to their heart's content.

Even if Hector had planned betrayal, it was clear he was no longer acting of free will. If he thought hard enough, he could see Hector inside of a dank dark cell, working himself to the bone every night with only scraps of food to fill his stomach. He could imagine his face as Isaac walked through the door, half-relieved, half terrified. Maybe he’d be too broken to beg for his life, considering death a mercy.

But Isaac wouldn’t give it to him, no, he had paid his debt. Hector had suffered as he had once, though under considerably different circumstances. With his torture fresh in his mind he would finally come to the realization that there was no good in the world, and he would want to strike it down just so he could be the last one standing, a small victory to make it all worthwhile. He could only hope that would be the case, and if not then maybe he’d still let Hector free. Maybe, depending on what would come.

As he watched the embers of the town rise into the night sky, Isaac smiled at the sight.

Red and blue really did complement each other nicely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done!!  
> This was really more of an experimental thing than anything else, I just wanted to see if I could get into the character's heads. I hope I did good by them ^^  
> Thank you for whoever saw this through to the end with me, your comments really bring a big smile to my face!! <3


End file.
